


Reorientation

by RevocablePeril (PerihelionIcarus)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Enjolras/Grantaire, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Simply Wanted Them to Fuck, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27662692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerihelionIcarus/pseuds/RevocablePeril
Summary: Marius kisses Courfeyrac at the party, and his entire world tilts on its axis.
Relationships: Courfeyrac/Marius Pontmercy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Reorientation

Marius had emerged from his room when the party was well underway, done his socialization for the night (by only speaking to anyone who spoke to him first) and nursed his one glass of water for an hour. Now he sits on the tiny balcony alone with the door closed behind him, watching planes go by in the night and secretly hoping that someone, anyone will come out and join him.

The muffled voices of Courfeyrac’s friends chatter on, indistinguishable through the glass but for sharp bursts of laughter. They talk like they’ve known each other their entire lives, like siblings, and Marius just feels like an intruder. It’s more comfortable out here. The wind picks up, and he shivers in the chill November air. Mostly comfortable, at least. 

The door slides open. The noise from inside spills out for a moment before it’s closed again.

“Hey, you,” Courfeyrac says. He pulls his arms inside his hoodie and sits across from him, the balcony small enough that their legs end up tangled. “Had enough for the night?”

“It’s loud in there,” Marius admits.

“Yeah, we’re like that.” Courfeyrac nudges his knee. “I’m glad you came out of your room for a while, at least. That’s a step better than the last time.”

“Your friends are still kind of intimidating to be around.”

Courfeyrac laughs. “Intimidating? What, Joly is intimidating? He’ll be so sad to hear that.” 

“Not like that, but-” Marius sighs. He looks away from the street and at Courfeyrac. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, I’m just teasing.” He grins. Then shivers. “It’s cold out here. Scootch over.” 

Marius makes as much room as he can in the space, but the balcony was made for one person to stand and look out, not two grown men sitting down. He finds himself squished against the balcony railing, Courfeyrac half in his lap. It _is_ much warmer, but his hands still shake and his heartbeat speeds up like it always does when he’s close by.

“Better?” Marius asks. 

Courfeyrac hums. He tips his head back onto Marius’ shoulder and looks at him. “You’re very comfortable.”

Courfeyrac’s curls fall against his cheek as he turns. Marius thinks, not for the first time, that Courfeyrac is either completely oblivious or is choosing to ignore his crush, because there is nothing subtle about the way Marius swallows and stares at him. 

“Bring your sweater out next time,” Marius says, in lieu of all the things he wants to say.

“This is better.”

They still don’t break eye contact. Marius opens his mouth to say something--he’s not even sure what--when there’s a knock at the door. They both jerk and look up in surprise. Marius sees Jehan waving at them through the window. He motions for Jehan to open it. 

“Hi,” they say, and look at Courfeyrac. “I feel like I should tell you that Enj and R might be hooking up in your bedroom.”

Courfeyrac groans. “They couldn’t wait ‘til they were home? Really?” 

“Do you want me to go kick them out?” Jehan asks. 

“No,” Courfeyrac sighs. “It’s fine. Let them have their fun. I’ll just wash the sheets, like, five times tomorrow.”

Jehan nods, gives them both an inscrutable look, and retreats back into the apartment.

“Enjolras and Grantaire are dating?” Marius asks.

“Yeah! I mean, they started pretty recently, hence their fucking everywhere we go. It’s pretty cute though. Them I mean, not the fucking.”

“Sorry about your bed, I guess.”

“At least someone’s getting some use out of it.”

“I thought you were on, uh,” Marius struggles to remember the name of it. “The gay app.”

“...Grindr?”

“That one.” 

Courfeyrac laughs at him. Reaches up to tousle his hair. “Deleted it a couple months after you moved in.”

“Oh,” Marius says stupidly. The pinpricks of jealousy that he didn’t realize were there fade away. 

Courfeyrac has always been considerate of him, so he’s not surprised. Marius wants to say that Courfeyrac shouldn’t hold back in his sex life on his account, or wants to ask why he doesn’t simply go to the other men’s places, but he’s stopped short by his own secret relief that Courfeyrac _isn’t_ doing it all the time.

“Why?” Marius asks, despite his better judgement.

“Do you really have to ask?” 

Marius has no idea what that means. He just looks back at the sky and says nothing.

“I should get back inside and entertain people,” sighs Courfeyrac, and he starts to stand up. “Coming?”

“Yeah.” He shivers the moment Courfeyrac pulls away even a little bit.

It’s hard for them to both stand up like this, pressed together with no space. They try to get to their feet at the same time and Courfeyrac stumbles forward, Marius catching him by the shoulders before he crashes into the balcony rail. 

They’re chest to chest now, Marius gripping him tight, Courfeyrac looking up at him with wide eyes, and something in Marius must snap because the next thing he knows, he’s leaned in and pressed their mouths together.

Courfeyrac inhales sharply and on the edges of his consciousness Marius realizes what he’s done. The panic builds, he’s about to pull away, but then Courfeyrac winds his arms around Marius’ neck and lets his lips part. His mind goes blank. Suddenly, they’re kissing hard on the balcony, flush with each other, neither of them coming up for air, Marius fumbling for some place to lay his hands; they travel over Courfeyrac’s shoulders, his back, the nape of his neck, up into his hair. Courfeyrac makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes Marius’ blood run hot and shoot down below the waistband of his pants to where Courfeyrac’s thigh is pressed.

Marius is certain that Courfeyrac can feel it, and he’s jolted back to reality as the world tilts around him. He pulls his head back, eyes wide with shock, his hands frozen where they tangled in Courfeyrac’s curls. Courfeyrac is in a similar state. Marius’ eyes settle on reddened lips and he swallows. 

“I didn’t mean to.” The words tumble out of Marius’ mouth, but he makes no motion to separate them. “I-I should have asked. I’m sorry.”

Courfeyrac stares at him, still shocked. There’s something in his eyes like fear, and Marius finds himself wanting to kiss it away. Courfeyrac bites his lip and averts his gaze. Then he leans in again, pausing just before their lips would meet, and he glances up as if to ask for permission. Marius nods and Courfeyrac closes the gap.

It’s softer this time. Their lips remain closed, and Marius brushes Courfeyrac’s cheek with his thumb where he knows the freckles are. His heart pounds; moonlight bursts in his chest. Whatever this is, whyever they’re doing it, he wants more.

“Why now?” Courfeyrac asks, breathlessly, when they finally pull apart again.

Marius thinks about it and draws a blank. “I don’t know. I just...wanted to kiss you.”

“I was giving up on you,” Courfeyrac says. 

“What?”

Courfeyrac raises an eyebrow. Then the other one. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“I’m confused,” Marius says.

“I’ve been flirting with you for _months_ , Marius. You weren’t picking up what I was offering, and I thought you were, like, trying to let me down gently.”

His eyes go wide. Memories, little vignettes of them living together play in fast forward in his brain. Courfeyrac’s firm hand on the small of his back, whenever he made dinner for the both of them, Courfeyrac patting the spot beside him on his bed, inviting him to come watch movies. Courfeyrac tipping his head onto his shoulder or hugging him from behind or looking up from a book and winking. A lot of things that never made sense click into place all at once, and Marius realizes that perhaps he had been the oblivious one all along.

“Oh,” Marius says. “ _Oh._ Oh no. I am so sorry, Courf.”

Courfeyrac lets his head fall onto Marius’ shoulder and he groans for a very long time. Marius, unsure what to do with his arms again, winds them around his waist. “You are _such_ an idiot,” Courfeyrac says.

“You’ve told me. Many times.” 

Courfeyrac hugs him. “Give me a second to like, un-give up on you. The ‘crush on my roommate’ part of me is very disoriented right now.”

“If it helps,” Marius starts, and the panic rises again as he realizes what he’s about to admit, “I also have a crush on my roommate.”

His arms squeeze Marius tighter. “It does help.”

Marius holds him there for a minute, and tries not to think of all the cues he’s missed over the past several months. This is a lot that is very new, very fast, and the vertigo of it hits him harder than it does when looking over the balcony’s edge. 

His eyes wander to the glass door, where he’s suddenly and keenly aware of how easily everyone inside could see them, if they were looking. Joly and Bahorel are too absorbed in a conversation to notice, but Jehan is averting their eyes in a way that suggests they definitely saw what was going on a few moments ago. Marius clears his throat. 

“Courf,” he says. “I think someone might have noticed us.”

He groans again. “Oh, this will be fun.”

“Should we go back inside now?” 

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac sighs. 

He releases Marius’ midsection, and Marius instantly feels colder. Courfeyrac turns and goes to grab the door handle, pauses, and turns back. 

“One more?” he asks. 

_God, yes,_ he thinks, but only nods. Courfeyrac leans in and kisses him, and suddenly Marius can’t wait for his friends to leave, so that later on, when they’re alone together again, they can do more and more and more of this. Courfeyrac pulls back with a smile and Marius is left wanting like a parched man who has just learned he needs water to live. 

Jehan corners Courfeyrac the moment they step back inside, and Marius makes a beeline for his bedroom while avoiding eye contact with anyone else. Once his door is safely closed behind him, he slumps against it, slides to the floor, and scrubs his hands through his hair.

To the extent that Marius plans anything, this was definitely not planned. Marius was doing great at pretending not to be crazy about Courfeyrac. Maybe not outwardly, but he had been fooling himself pretty well into thinking that it was just a little crush that he would never act upon. So. Foiled again by his own impulse.

But now Courfeyrac likes him too. Against all odds. Even while living with Marius, knowing that the only things he brings to the table are maybe five euros and some skill with a microwave. His head spins and pulse races, he’s still thinking about the press of Courfeyrac’s lips on his own and his thigh against his groin, and he needs to do something with his hands before these thoughts spiral off in more dangerous directions.  
He wants to talk to someone; to tell them what just happened while he’s still on the cloud of _oh my god oh my god oh my god_ but he realizes that the person he would have yelled to about this is Courfeyrac himself. He’s who Marius talks to when something good happens to him, and he’s also who he goes to when he needs help. Whenever he’s in class his mind wanders to their apartment, where Courf is there and the sofa is warm with the two of them on it.

He tries (and fails) to do school work while he waits for the telltale quiet that signals that the rest of Courfeyrac’s friends have left. They do so slowly, excruciatingly so, but after a while the voices cease and the mattress noises coming from Courfeyrac’s room die down. Marius cautiously removes the headphones he’d put on to block out the sound.

Courfeyrac pushes his bedroom door open without knocking and pokes his head in. “Everyone’s gone except Enj and R,” he says.

“Okay,” Marius says. 

Courfeyrac hovers in the doorway.

“You can come in,” Marius continues. He shifts over on his bed. 

Courfeyrac shuts the door behind him and takes the empty spot. His arm presses up against Marius and suddenly he’s nervous all over again. 

“So,” Courfeyrac says. “We should talk about this.” 

Marius gulps. He’s never been good at that. 

When he doesn’t respond, Courfeyrac goes on. “Here’s my deal. I really like you, I have for a while, but I didn’t really think it would go anywhere because honestly I thought you were straight. So now I’m like, what? I would love to keep making out and whatever else like we just did on the balcony because oh my _god_ that was good, but I wanna know where you stand first. Because we live together, and in my experience that can get very messy very fast.”

“I like you too,” Marius blurts. His mind is still a swirling mess of emotion, desire and trepidation and the thrill of Courfeyrac liking him but the fear of losing his best friend. “A lot. But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Courfeyrac looks thoughtful for a moment, then takes Marius’ hand and interlaces their fingers. “Is this okay?” 

It’s more than okay. He nods. “I want to keep going. With the balcony stuff. Um.”

Courfeyrac huffs a laugh. “Surely you’ve kissed people before.”

“In high school. With one girl.”

“Well, you’re good at it.” 

“Really?” 

“Good enough to make me want it again.” He winks.

Marius flushes, and turns so he can properly look him in the eye.

Courfeyrac meets his glance, and a moment passes between them where Marius’ breath hitches and he knows exactly what’s going to happen next. Wordlessly, they lean into each other and their lips meet again.

It’s like a drug, or what Marius imagines a drug to be like, heart fluttering and mind going blank to everything except a litany of _this yes closer more please_ and the points where their bodies meet. Lips against lips, hand in hand, side by side. All of a sudden it’s not enough, Marius wants him even closer, and he slips his free hand around Courfeyrac’s waist to pull him over and into his lap. Courfeyrac happily obliges and straddles Marius’ thighs with a heady exhale.

Courfeyrac slips a tongue into his mouth and Marius makes the _most_ embarrassing noise in the back of his throat as he parts his lips. Courfeyrac moans in response, and all of a sudden it’s too hot in here, both their bodies moving the way they are; then Courfeyrac spreads his thighs and grinds down on him, and the last ounce of sanity Marius had been clinging to disappears.

His free hand starts to trace a path all over Courfeyrac’s body. There’s something surging inside him; a flood that rages out of whatever wall used to hold back his feelings. He pulls back ever so slightly, looks into Courfeyrac’s half-lidded eyes, the parted and panting lips, feels the force with which he’s grabbing Marius’ shoulder, and knows he feels the same.

His hand wanders to Courfeyrac’s hip, fingertips teasing at the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I,” Marius asks against his lips. 

“ _Please_ ,” Courfeyrac breathes in response. 

So he lets his hand wander. Up along the skin of his waist and across his stomach, where he feels a thin trail of hair leading down from his navel. He swallows hard, skims over it and moves across his ribs and up to the taut skin of his chest. He hikes the shirt up and takes a moment just to look and feel. 

Marius has seen him without a shirt before, walking around the flat in the morning in only pyjama pants (revealing the gentle curve of his back, the freckles on his shoulders, a strong chest that Marius tried not to think of in bed at night), but to be able to now run his hands over the body that distracted and made him burn inside is so new and so, so good. His fingers graze over Courfeyrac’s nipple, and Courfeyrac arches his back, groans, and presses further into Marius’ lap. 

“Careful,” Courfeyrac says. “Sensitive.”

Trying to elicit the same response, he lets his thumb glide over it again. Going by how Coufeyrac bites his lip and the way his thighs squeeze around him, it works. Suddenly, the shirt is an annoying piece of fabric which must be gone immediately, and he pushes it up, Courfeyrac pulling it the rest of the way off in one smooth motion. Courfeyrac leans forward as he does so, and Marius can feel the hardness in his pants press up against his own raging erection. His throat gets very, very dry and his hands still.

Courfeyrac must notice, because he stops his grinding for a moment and looks at him earnestly. “Are we moving too fast?” 

They are, somewhere in a distant corner of his mind Marius knows they are, and he has _no idea_ what he’s doing but right now he is burning with want; the desire to know what Courfeyrac feels like in his hand or how Courfeyrac’s hand feels wrapped around him. Sense might catch up with him later, right now he runs on instinct.

“No,” Marius says. He looks Courfeyrac up and down, from his half-lidded eyes and wrecked and parted lips, to the freckled shoulders, and to the thin hair trail that disappears into his pants. He lets out a shaky breath. “You’re beautiful.”

Courfeyrac descends on him again and kisses the words away. Marius’ hands settle on his hips again just above his waistband, unsure of what he’s allowed to do or if and how Courfeyrac will lead. Courfeyrac winds his arms around Marius’ neck and presses closer until there’s no space between them at all. 

Courfeyrac gyrates slowly, angling his hips so that their erections rub together. Marius moans into his mouth and raises his hips to meet him. The friction sends shivers up and down his spine; it’s at once too much and not enough, he’s straining against his fly, desperate for contact, but Marius knows he’ll come within seconds after he’s touched. 

After the most maddening two minutes, Courfeyrac removes his hand from Marius’ hair, slides it across his hip to the front of his pants, and strokes his cock through the fabric. Marius’ back arches, and he moans.

Courfeyrac leans forward to whisper in his ear, lips brushing against his cheek on the way. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Marius pants. “Oh my god, yes.”

Courfeyrac deftly unbuttons the front of his pants with one hand--he has clearly done this many times--and reaches into his boxers. The moment Courfeyrac wraps his hand around the shaft of his cock, gently squeezing and stroking in a single motion, Marius sees stars. He bucks up into Courfeyrac’s hand. He has no idea how he was living before the feeling of _this_ , deft fingers and a strong wrist stroking his length like Courfeyrac has done it all his life, Marius shuddering beneath him. Courfeyrac watches his face in silence, a smile playing at his lips each time Marius gasps or moans or his eyes flutter shut. Courfeyrac speeds up his strokes, and Marius knows he’s close, but surely it isn’t fair that he’s getting off alone when Courfeyrac is also so obviously hard.

“Wait,” Marius says. He fumbles at Courfeyrac’s fly. “You too.” 

Courfeyrac nods, and steals another quick kiss before Marius finishes undoing his pants. Courfeyrac’s underwear are tight, the full shape of his cock visible against his thigh. Courfeyrac sits up on his knees so Marius can pull the underwear down and his cock bounces free, longer than his own, redder towards the tip, curving upwards. Marius’ throat gets very dry and he swallows, imagining all manner of things he might do with it and it might do to him. He wraps an experimental hand around the shaft, relishing how it pulses under his palm, and gives it a few quick strokes.

Courfeyrac’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip with a groan. Encouraged, Marius strokes him faster. Courfeyrac matches his pace on Marius’ cock, and his concentration is almost ruined. 

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve looked at your hands and thought about this,” Courfeyrac whispers.

Amidst the fog of desire it registers, and he whines, knowing that just as much as he’s been watching Courfeyrac, Courfeyrac has been watching him. He feels himself getting close, spurred on by Courfeyrac’s deft hand and the look in his eyes and the tongue he tantalizingly draws across his lower lip. He feels so open, so vulnerable, but the way Courfeyrac handles his cock is confident and sure and Marius can barely think beyond the softness of his hand.

Courfeyrac watches him, transfixed, half-lidded gaze fixated on Marius’ face, as he bucks, arches, and shudders, come shooting onto their chests and spilling down over Courfeyrac’s hand. The waves of orgasm roll over him until he finally settles, utterly wrecked and spent. 

He feels Courfeyrac’s cock throb under his hand again, and instantly needs to know what Courfeyrac looks like at the moment of release. His hand quickens, and he reaches his free one out to tease Courfeyrac’s nipple again. Courfeyrac gasps and spreads his thighs further apart, ass pressing into Marius’ legs. He looks otherworldly like this, curls falling into his face, eyes shut and mouth open, leaning into his touch; Marius wants to savour the moment forever. 

Soon, though, Courfeyrac tilts his head back with a moan, and he comes into Marius’ hand, thighs shaking. He collapses onto Marius’ chest and they lay there together, hot and panting. 

Marius’ senses slowly return, and he sees the come on his hand that is not his own, feels the weight of Courfeyrac lying on him. Logically, it shouldn’t feel so natural. He should feel awkward, always imagined his first time would be--but like all things where Courfeyrac is involved, he feels warm and reassured. Like of course this is the correct thing to do. He wraps his arms around Courfeyrac and buries his face in his shoulder. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” Marius says, muffled. 

Courfeyrac huffs a laugh. “I don’t usually come that fast.” 

“Was it...good?” 

“Yes, Marius, it was _good_. I can’t believe you figured out the nipple thing the first time.”

Marius distantly gets the implication that if this is the first time, there will be others. His grip tightens. He wants to try Courfeyrac every way he would have him. 

“We should clean up,” Courfeyrac says, “now, before I fall asleep on you.” 

Marius gives a grunt of disapproval. “Fine.” 

He watches Courfeyrac tuck himself back into his pants and stand. Marius tries to do the same, but stands up too fast and has to instantly grab Courfeyrac’s shoulder for support. 

Courfeyrac smirks at him. “Cute.” 

Marius flushes. “I’m not used to this.” 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

He takes Marius by the (non-sticky) hand and leads him towards the bathroom. Courfeyrac wets a cloth and wipes his own chest and hands, and wipes Marius’ hand as well. Marius watches him mesmerized, the look of tired concentration on Courfeyrac’s face and the tumble of his curls. He wants to bury his face in them as they lie in bed together. 

“Do you want to, um,” Marius says, not even sure how he’ll ask, “sleep together tonight? In my bed?”

Courfeyrac looks up at him, uncharacteristically shy. “Really? You want to?”

“Not to do anything else. Just sleep.” 

Courfeyrac smiles. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

Marius’ own smile spreads stupidly across his face. “Okay.” 

Courfeyrac leans up and pecks him on the lips. Marius’ heart skips. Ridiculous how much it affects him, especially in the wake of what they just did.

There’s a knock at the bathroom door, and they both freeze. 

“Courf? That you?” comes Grantaire’s voice.

Marius had completely forgotten he was still here, and is briefly mortified about what he may have heard coming through the bedroom wall ten minutes ago. Neither he nor Courfeyrac say anything for a moment, and then Courfeyrac sighs. 

“They’re gonna find out in the morning either way,” he whispers. “Are you okay with that?” 

Marius doesn’t see why he’d be ashamed or anything. “I don’t mind.” 

Courfeyrac nods and pulls the door open. “Just finished,” he says.

Marius watches Grantaire’s eyes go wide as he notices him standing awkwardly behind Courfeyrac (who still is not wearing a shirt) before _immediately_ breaking into a grin. “Oh, I bet you did.” 

Courfeyrac ignores this and smacks Grantaire on the shoulder on his way out. Marius sidles past with a soft ‘sorry’ as Grantaire flashes him a huge thumbs-up. 

“At least it wasn’t Enj,” Courfeyrac says, once they’re safely back in Marius’ room. “He would have given you the ‘if you hurt him you’ll deal with me’ speech right there in the bathroom, and I for one am tired and have some cuddling to look forward to.”

With that he belly-flops onto the bed and looks at him expectantly. Marius’ heart does a little flutter as he lays down to join him. He reaches an arm around Coufeyrac’s shoulder and gathers him close, and Courfeyrac makes a contented little noise as he wiggles to press up against Marius’ side. 

“I don’t know if I snore,” Marius says, after a moment. 

“Don’t worry about it. ‘M too sleepy to notice.” 

“Okay.” 

“Relax, Marius. I’m still gonna like you in the morning even if you snore.” 

He does relax, a little bit, at that, and Courfeyrac smiles. He pecks Marius on the cheek and then nuzzles back down in the crook of his neck. 

There’s plenty they’re not saying right now. That this is probably not a one-off thing, that they’re going to have to talk and then do something about it, and now that Enjolras and Grantaire know, the rest of Courfeyrac’s friends will know soon too. Marius would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. There’s so many things to think about, but Courfeyrac is in his arms, softly breathing against his chest. He reaches a hand out and tucks a curl behind Courfeyrac’s ear, tracing the shell of it with his thumb. There seems to be nothing more important than this right now. Thinking can wait for the morning. 

Marius falls asleep like that, seconds later, hand still tucked in Courfeyrac’s curls.

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) This is basically a vent fic, for me and my own entertainment, with very little attention paid to quality! That said, if you enjoyed it thank you and hell yeah.  
> 2.) It was originally going to be a multichap exploring the development of their relationship through sex, but then I got a million other fic ideas pleading for my attention, as they do. Perhaps I'll come back to it! Who Knows!  
> 3.) Thank you for reading! Come yell at me in the comments or on tumblr @grantairelibere.


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